Friday 14th June – Saturday 15th June
Earlier in the week I very kindly offered to drop Middle Child to school this morning to save her dragging a huge suitcase, backpack and pillow onto the train. But this means that she will have to be there at 8am as I have to be at work at 8.30 and cannot be late, as I have a lot going on this day and this means we will have to leave at 7.20am at the latest. Eldest Child says he will come early with us as, although his exam isn’t until 9am, he will happily arrive at 8am in order to do some last-minute revision. I should have known then that the fates were out to get me today.
Last night Middle Child informs me that she doesn’t have to be at school until 9am and so she will get on the train instead. I remind her that she has to negotiate her luggage and it will be easier for me to just drop her. She insists that she doesn’t want to get there early. Fine! I’m not arguing!
Later, she decides she does want me to take her! FFS!
So, I get up at 5.30am on Friday morning so I can still enjoy a relaxing cup of tea before getting the masses up and leaving in time to get them all to school nice and early for school trip and exam.
Middle Child gets up. She now doesn’t want me to take her to school as she doesn’t want to get there an hour early. I point out that we have had this conversation several times now and I have got up at the crack of dawn specially to take her to school.
Five minutes later she decides she does want me to take her (FFS!) but can I email her teacher to tell her that she will be there early because the teacher said don’t come until 9am (Middle Child is a stickler for the rules). I humour her by emailing the teacher. The teacher replies and says not a problem and allocates her a room to wait in until the teacher gets there.
Myself, Middle and Youngest Child are ready to leave, as previously arranged, at 7.20am. Eldest Child has just decided to do some printing for last minute revision. The printer is not working and of course it is all my fault and he now has to look for his memory stick so he can print it at school. I point out that it is slightly last minute as the exam is at 9am and we had discussed how we would need to leave at 7.20am so I could get to work in time to start at 8.30am. He then shouts at me about how I don’t need to stress and there is plenty of time and he now has to find his memory stick and it’s not his fault the printer is not working. I patiently point out that it all could have been sorted if he had been prepared the night before. I again get shouted at so I decide I am not going to wait any longer and I am now leaving. I ask The Husband (who is sitting watching tv) if he can drop Eldest Child at the bus stop. He huffs and puffs and points out how he has got things to do (watching Game of Thrones seems to be one of those things). It is at this point that the Menopausal Monster rears its head and roars that he is not the only one with things to fucking do and I am having to do a fucking hours round trip to drop Middle Child to school and then get myself and Youngest Child to work and school for 8.30 and I also have a busy day with lots fucking going on.
The Husband very kindly offers to drop Eldest Child at the bus stop!
We arrive at the secondary school at 8am and I drag the suitcase out of the boot while Middle Child whines and whinges about how early she is and how embarrassing it is that she isn’t in school uniform and everyone will be looking at her. I calmly point out that they will probably be thinking how lucky she is not to be in school next week because she is going on a trip to the South of France. The mistake I make is saying this as a teacher walks by on their way into school. Middle daughter becomes apoplectic. “Oh my God do you have to talk it is so embarrassing!” Right!
I inform middle daughter that she can do what she jolly well likes as I now have to go because I need to get to work but trying to be the bigger person here (and because I know that mother’s guilt will set in later when I think of her on a 24 hour coach trip) I tell her to have a lovely time and kiss her on the cheek. She proceeds to slap her cheeks while screeching about how embarrassing I am and how much she hates it.
I get in the car, do a quick U-turn and speed off to work before I lose my shit!
Later that evening I get home to find the sink and work surface full of dirty dishes, the cat waiting to be fed and The Husband sitting in the living room watching Game of Thrones (has he actually moved today?).
I make some sarcastic comment about the dishwasher and I am informed how tired one is and what a long, busy day one has had! I reply that funnily enough I know what that feels like and so he then makes a point of pausing the tv and getting up to load the dishwasher while informing me not to go mental when I see Eldest Child’s room! WTF?
It is then I notice the box of 70+ Beast Quest books dumped in the dining room and the huge trunk full of books on my patio. “What is going on?” I tentatively ask. Youngest Child, sensing a drama is about to ensue, runs up to Eldest Child’s bedroom and screams “OMG what has happened?”
It seems oldest son got home from his last ever exam and felt the need to renovate his bedroom. This consisted of ripping the sofa bunk off the wall, taking his bookcase apart and smashing up his wardrobe. He then spent the evening taking the silver lino up off the floor (it was meant to look like the floor of a spaceship in his Star Wars themed bedroom), ripping the wallpaper off one wall and dumping all of his belongings in his sisters’ bedrooms.
“Don’t worry” he tells me, “it will all be done in a couple of days”!
A couple of days? He is talking about new wood flooring and painting the walls. He can’t even bring a plate down from his room and put it in the dishwasher! Also, who is going to pay for it? FML!
A little while later The Husband informs me that I have got the hump tonight. I wonder why? I inform him that I will possibly have the hump for the next ten years so get used to it and promptly take myself off to bed early where I sleep for twelve solid hours.
I wake up on Saturday morning feeling a bit depressed about yet another room being renovated and so I send a few sarcastic text messages to The Husband about half finished houses that builders live in, along with some links to sites that sell staircase spindles and then drag myself downstairs to cheer myself up with four slices of peanut butter on toast.
I walk into the kitchen and look up to my skylight to be confronted by a school backpack that seems to have been chucked out of a bedroom window! WTF! I have a feeling that peanut butter on toast is not going to cut it today so I go online and spend £36 on a body butter that promises to restore my daily dose of magnesium and contains 24 essential oils that will make me feel calmer and more relaxed! If it can do that for £36 it will be a fucking bargain!
That afternoon Middle Child finally messages me to say she is off to the beach, Mother in Law rings me four times to tell me what she is buying Youngest Child for her birthday and Eldest Child has gone to Ikea and B&Q to purchase items for the bedroom renovation. To be fair though Eldest Child is smiling and gave me a long hug before he left so maybe the renovation is a good thing.
The Husband rings to say he is sending a man round to collect some money for a job they are working on (it’s not as dodgy as it sounds!). The man turns up and immediately starts telling me (all in one breath) about the chicken shop that they are working in (I assume some kind of building works unless The Husband has changed his job without telling me) and how they have been messed around and how he has a bird in the back of his van! Erm excuse me?
“A bird?” I enquire. “Do you mean the feathered kind or have you had a stroke of luck?” Still without stopping for breath, he carries on to reassure me that when he stops at the tyre shop, he will let it out and he will see me later! Ok then! Slightly perturbed about the prospect of ‘seeing him later’ I will assume it is the feathered variety of bird and not ring the police to say there is a man from the chicken shop driving around with a woman in the back of his van.It is then I realise I can hear the bath running! There is only me and Youngest Child in the house and seeing as the last time I saw her she was on the stairs using the window sill as a dressing table with a variety of make-up arranged on it, I think I’d better go and check what she is doing. After all, the burn mark from the hair remover has only just started to fade. Wish me luck!